


Sweet Nothings on Pillows Like Hotel Mints

by We_Have_Become_Anathema



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Come Swallowing, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 11:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/We_Have_Become_Anathema/pseuds/We_Have_Become_Anathema
Summary: Will was resplendent just lying there, dishevelled and utterly defenceless. It was a sight he had never thought to see. In fact, beyond a few classical nude sketch studies he’d drawn of the man after particularly emotionally charged sessions, he’d never considered him a potential conquest.But having slept with him, it didn’t feel like a conquest.





	Sweet Nothings on Pillows Like Hotel Mints

**Author's Note:**

> A tremendous thank you to my lovely Beta, moistdrippings, who serves as equal parts muse and editor.

‘Olympus must be real,’ Hannibal blearily thought in the liminal space between sleep and waking, ‘because I stole Adonis from the sky.’ It was a saccharinely sweet thought, better suited to post-coital euphoria than the cold reality of the morning after. He reached over and smoothed a sweat stained curl of hair out of Will’s face. 

Will was resplendent just lying there, dishevelled and utterly defenceless. It was a sight he had never thought to see. In fact, beyond a few classical nude sketch studies he’d drawn of the man after particularly emotionally charged sessions, he’d never considered him a potential conquest.

But having slept with him, it didn’t feel like a conquest.

He didn’t want the morning light to spill in through the break in his curtains and fall upon that face, waking the man who he already knew would try to make excuses for the happy accident that had happened the night before. Alana would be brought up, there would be an argument, and if Will was feeling particularly insecure there would be a missed session or two as well.

Sighing, he reached into his nightstand without taking his eyes from the masterpiece beside him and pulled out a small sketchbook. It was intimate, holding sketches made on the cusp of sleep, many more dreams than reality. It felt fitting to add Will’s sleeping innocence to them, capturing his undefiled tranquillity before morality creased it.

The blade of the scalpel was almost silent as it shaved the point of his pencil, wood and graphite whispering down into his cupped hand. He dropped them to the nightstand to be swept up later. The pencil gave a hushed rasp as it danced over the grit of the paper, smooth arcs and sweeps turning into the barest hints of a face, of curls, of love.

It was unexpected, the depth of emotion that he felt after a single night; and not a particularly impressive one if he was being painfully honest. He smiled to himself as he shaded the line of Will’s upper lip.

Will had been drunk. Was there any other way it could have started?

There had been an insistent knocking at his door, a staccato beat that missed once or twice to keep from being regular. He’d risen from his study, tablet in hand, and re-fastened his house coat before answering the door.

Will had burst upon his home like the tempest, all bluster and rage and righteous indignation. “How can you do it? How can you lie to her like this? Use her like this?”

It didn’t take a great leap of reasoning for Hannibal to assume whom he meant. Alana. They had been sleeping together for several weeks now. She made for a wonderful lover, but a far better alibi should the need arise. He was almost certain it would eventually. He motioned him inside, ignoring the vitriol in hopes it might dissipate if given a chance to exhaust itself. “Good evening Will.”

“Don’t give me that.” He tore off his jacket and threw it at Hannibal, making himself at home even in his rage. “You knew I liked her. I came to you and told you before about kissing her. Of all the people you could have decided to use as camouflage in a loveless façade, why did it have to be her?”

Exactly what Will was upset by the most was still clouded, but a ray of illumination broke through the clouds. “Will, I knew her long before you had ever met her.”

Will whirled on him, finger dangerously close to his face. “Don’t give me that. This isn’t some machismo bullshit about staking a claim.” The finger wavered.

He rose a hand and gently brushed Will’s aside. The moment he’d initiated the physical contact Will had fallen upon him, mouth so hungry it practically gnashed. The kiss was a surprise, the hands that groped at his robe and tore it open were downright unparalleled. Will had tried to pin him to the wall; but given his intoxicated state and the fact that he was far stronger than Will, it wasn’t long before their roles were switched.

It was exciting, playing into Will’s rage with so little concern for the repercussions. He’d never indulged a fantasy of Will in this manner but who was he to deny what the man so obviously wanted? The drunken state of his part time friend, full time enemy was only all the more reason to keep him inside rather than letting him back on the road.

Fumbling hands on his belt and muttered curses were endearing beyond any right they had to be. “Do you need assistance in removing my clothes?”

“Who the fuck wears clothes under their robe?” The tone made it implicit that he did not need or want help, whatever reality was dictating otherwise.

So he decided to sweep him off his feet, literally, and retire to a more comfortable corner of the house than his entryway.

Apparently not having to focus on standing and undoing Hannibal’s belt at the same time was all the assistance Will needed. The belt fell to the floor with a clatter, the buckle loud against the hardwood.

He rather hoped it would leave a scratch, just so he could prove to himself in the morning that this hadn’t been a dream.

“I hate you,” Will muttered against his neck, lips and teeth joined in singular purpose of consuming him whole.

“I know.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“I’m beginning to realise that.”

“Why did it have to be Alana? I could have ignored anyone else but her.”

Hannibal didn’t have an answer for that, so he merely shouldered open the door to his room and curled Will more fully against his chest. Maybe it had to be Alana so that this moment could happen.

Only it was reality rather than a dream, so once he’d deposited Will on the bed things had all gone wonderfully wrong. Will was riotously drunk and couldn’t get anything up, no matter how much he cursed at it or how much stimulation either of them applied. Then he’d vomited, all over both of them.

He’d spent the night nursing Will in the bathroom, drawing a bath to clean them together as he held the man above water. It was remarkably intimate, likely more so than sex could have been in Will’s state. He held him against his chest, curled on his lap, and rubbed slow circles on his back. The muttered refrain of, “Why did it have to be Alana,” became a mantra until Will passed out in his arms.

Sleeping together in the freshly made bed so he could watch over Will had therefore made perfect sense. He couldn’t allow him to choke on his vomit in his sleep, now could he?

He chuckled to himself as he darkened the curls spread out underneath Will’s head, a few hashmarks of shading indicating the pillow it rested upon. Will was breathtaking like this. It was his solemn desire to spend many more mornings in just such a manner, drawing him before he had a chance to rouse for the day; although hopefully not after so explosive a night.

Will’s eyelids didn’t flutter until nearly an hour later and by then the sketchbook was hidden away again, Will’s body covered once more now that it had served as unwitting model.

“Good morning.”

Confusion crossed Will’s face even before his eyes opened, a crease in his brows that had gotten deeper over the two years they’d known each other.

It was tempting for Hannibal to reach out and smooth that crease away with gentle affection, but he knew that wouldn’t work.

Will’s eyes opened, bloodshot and rimmed with too much red. He groaned and held a hand up against the meagre predawn light. “The hell?”

“How much do you remember of last night?”

That question seemed sufficient to break Will from his stupor. His hand fell to the sheets, which he immediately clutched with remarkable intensity. “I didn’t… we didn’t… fuck.”

“Was that a question or an exclamation?”

The anger in Will’s glare was also more endearing than it should be. “I was drunk. Whatever we did doesn’t count.”

The comment was so juvenile that Hannibal almost laughed. He had to fight to keep a straight face. “Oh, I think it would count even with how drunk you were, but you needn’t worry. You have nothing to regret and no need to protect your chastity.”

“Then,” Will edged up onto his elbows, “we didn’t?”

“Fuck, as you so eloquently put it?”

Another glare.

“No, although not for lack of trying on your part. You were too inebriated to form an erection and then you vomited on me.”

Will blanched. “I did what?” However, it was clearly a rhetorical question as the memories from last night began to filter through his mind and he cringed. “Oh shit.”

Hannibal gave him time to process in peace. But when Will started to mumble that he should leave and made to get out of bed, he couldn’t keep himself from reaching out and grabbing Will’s wrist. “Stay.”

“No. I can’t, I’ve got lectures and the dogs and--.”

It seemed like Will was building up to a good tirade, so he cut him off, “No, you don’t. First off,” his fingers tightened around his wrist, “it’s Saturday, so you have no classes and I have no patients. Secondly, your dogs can wait an hour or two, there’s no need to rush yourself. And lastly, as embarrassing as this might be for you, I would love to explore it further before we mutually decide anything.”

“There’s nothing mutual here. I got drunk and did something reckless.”

“And?”

Will didn’t seem to have an answer to that.

“Do you see me complaining?”

“No.”

“Am I railing against you for breaching the sanctity of my home?”

“No.”

“Have I told you to leave my bed?”

“No, the opposite actually.” He held up Hannibal’s hand still clenched to his wrist.

“Exactly. Stay.”

There was a beat of silence as Will processed. Finally, he said, “Why?”

Hannibal sighed, and his eyes warmed with his smile. “Because you presented us both with a very intriguing proposition last night and I would like to pursue it. If we both decide that it was a mistake after exploring it further, then I will gladly drop the matter and we can pretend it never happened if you wish.”

Their relationship was rocky at best, but Will knew that Hannibal would keep his word once he’d given it. It was pinning him down for a promise that was the tricky part. He glared at him as he thought it over. “I initiated everything last night, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

He carded a hand through his curls in agitation. “Fine.”

Hannibal quirked an eyebrow, keeping any hope off his face.

“Fucking fine. Just let me get cleaned up first.”

“Oh no, now that I have you in my web, I think I’ll wait until after I’ve sucked you dry to chance letting you go.” It would be impolite to gloat, but he wanted Will right where he had him.

“Said the spider to the fly?”

“Precisely. Besides, have you been with a man before?”

Will went silent.

“Should I take that as a no?”

He shook his head, clearing his throat once before trusting his voice. “No, there was an experimental phase in college. It’s just been a long time.”

“Excellent, so my offer stands.”

Realisation dawned on Will’s face like the sun bursting forth. “To suck me dry?”

Hannibal nodded, eyes darkening imperceptibly with anticipation.

Will wet his lips. The nod he gave in response was a victory Hannibal hadn’t known he’d craved.

“Any preferences I should know about?”

The question broke whatever spell was over Will and his impish nature returned. He gave Hannibal a long once over, eyes lingering on the sheet pooled at his hip. “I think we’ll just have to wait and see. Like I said, it’s been a long time. I don’t get out much.”

“Then any hints you’re willing to give me from when you get yourself off?”

The impishness turned downright mischievous. “Oh no, I want you to work for it if you’re so dead set on impressing me into staying.”

Hannibal loved to rise to the occasion. “My pleasure. Lie back please.”

Will arranged the pillows behind him before easing himself back against them.

Pulling the sheet back from him inch by inch, Hannibal drew out the moment as he took in every glorious molecule of him. “You’re marvellous.”

The compliment unsettled Will and he puffed like a disgruntled bird.

“No, don’t. Let me shower you with praise and affection. I so rarely have the chance to be honest with a partner. And you, you already know my darkest secret.”

Will’s gaze darted to his own flaccid groin. “The fact that I know that secret and am still letting your mouth anywhere near me is a testament to my insanity.”

He laughed. “Or your trust in the fact that I prefer my meat cooked and plated. Raw works better with seafood.”

“I’m tempted to make a vagina joke, but I think that’d be in poor taste.”

That made him laugh again. “And there’s the dark wit I’ve grown so fond of.” He knelt on all fours over him and leaned in to kiss him. It was tentative at first, probing as he gathered stock of Will’s reaction. When it was clear he wouldn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, one hand coming up to cup his cheek. He opened his mouth to Will and was rewarded when that questing tongue pushed past his lips. Sucking him in, he let their lips glide together in a slow embrace, almost more rolling off one another than a kiss. It was tactile and so enticingly new.

He had never thought of Will like this before last night’s intrusion, but now he knew he would never be able to put the genie back in the bottle. His dreams would be filled with Will endlessly. Whether his bed would also be filled with him was entirely up to Will.

Rough, calloused hands ran over his sides and up his back, squeezing along his bunched shoulders. A hand ran south and stopped at the dip in the small of his back. “You’re welcome to explore further,” he said into the kiss, words lost even if the meaning was communicated. He was immediately rewarded by that rugged hand skimming over his ass and moving to pull the back of his knee further forward, holding it securely.

The kiss morphed into another and then another. Heat building between their mouths incrementally. His teeth grazed the delicate skin in a silent question. He felt Will’s nod before he bit down, not enough to draw blood but enough to get his intention across. The moan he heard in response assured him he wasn’t the only one excited at the thought of a little blood spilled between them. He nipped Will’s lip and blood trickled out, lubricating their next kiss with a passion that was bordering on pain.

“Suck me off with my blood on your lips,” Will gasped out, hands both on Hannibal’s ass, kneading the taut muscle in what felt like a promise for later.

Please let it be a promise for later.

He broke for air, teeth stained pink with Will. “Gladly.”

Will was a masterpiece painted in lust and anticipation. He wasn’t flaccid any longer.  
Moving back slowly, reluctant to lose those hands on him, he bent Will’s legs up and out, giving himself space to work. The pliant nature of Will in his arms ensured he would have been hard himself even if he wasn’t already. His lips trailed kisses down his chest, tongue swirling over the head of the dark trail of hair leading down to his groin. He buried his nose in those tight curls and breathed deep the scents of Will, merged with his own bath products to create the headiest of perfumes.

He might never want to leave.

Fingers curled in his hair and Hannibal felt himself twitch. He looked up to see Will’s arm outstretched and hunger shining in those pale blue eyes.

Licking a long stripe down the length of him, he let the taste wash over him. Musk, sweat, rose hips and lilacs from the bath soap. It was too floral a scent for Will; next time he’d try something more wild. He took him into his mouth and tightened his lips, just rubbing over the head in shallow bobs, the lightest flirtation. He teased until those fingers tightened in his hair and he caught a snarl from Will.

He knew Will’s impatience would win out and to be proven right was nearly as good as the way Will growled at him to get serious.

Who was he to displease his dearest friend?

Surging forward all at once, he swallowed past his gag reflex until his nose was brushing against those curls again and his lips were to his base. He wasn’t the largest man he’d ever gone down on, a fact he appreciated. Men could be so preoccupied with size, but when giving head he would gladly sacrifice a little length in favour of girth, and girth Will had aplenty. His eyes teared up but he blinked the moistness away, locking gazes with Will.

He had to come up for air several times before his throat was ready to take him for longer, and then he hummed around him, hands on his hips encouragingly.

Will was a clever boy, he put two and two together and came up with thrust.

They went slow at first, both testing the waters, Hannibal careful of his teeth and Will delicate in his thrusting. Then caution went to the wind as they found a rhythm, the tight hand in his hair everything Hannibal could have wanted as he swallowed convulsively around Will again and again.

He felt when Will was close, kept his hold on his hips vicelike as he felt the first indecision in his partner. He wanted to swallow him down, he didn’t want to waste a single drop of him. Mouth preoccupied, he hummed again, nodding his encouragement as Will’s small spasms intensified.

Warm and bitter, it hit so far back on his tongue he almost missed the flavour.

He pulled off only when he was sure that Will was well and truly done. Saliva trailed from his swollen lips to the tip of Will’s cock and he wished that connection could last forever. When it broke he licked his lips dry.

Will’s eyes were glassy as he let his hand fall from Hannibal’s hair. He was boneless and wreathed with pillows. He looked perfect in his bed.

Hannibal crept back up and hovered over his lips, patient to see if Will would want to kiss him with his taste still lingering in his mouth.

The answer was immediate and astonishingly gentle. Orgasm, it would seem, could tame the wild beast. “Stay,” he whispered.

Will nodded against his lips and pulled the sheet over them both.


End file.
